


I've been saving all my summers for you.

by crystaldeer



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Frotting, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystaldeer/pseuds/crystaldeer
Summary: “This is a dream, right?”, Yuuri asks because there’s no other explanation for what’s happening right now. "No, this isn’t a dream. But, Yuuri, you should allow yourself to dream more anyway.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's summer time and I hang on a vine  
> they're gonna make me into sweet red wine  
> hanging around like a fruit on a tree  
> waiting to be picked, come on cut me free
> 
> come on fill your cup up  
> looking for a some good luck  
> good luck, good luck to you  
> hanging like a fruit  
> ready to be juiced, juiced, juiced

When the lights go off and the open space of the ice rink is replaced with the tiny changing room, almost like time went by in a flash, Yuuri can’t help but crumble to his feet. _“I did it”_ , he thinks, hands covering his face and breathing becoming irregular, _“I made Viktor look at me. I made him notice me.”_

He doesn’t know anymore how many people were watching, and for the first time he finds out he doesn’t care anyway. _Viktor_ saw him, Viktor, if so he dares to think, was _mesmerized by him_. And it’s so overwhelming, to see and be seen as something else other than a clumsy kid trying to spin, to be seen as feminine grace and sensuality.

Sensuality.

Yuuri could never see himself as a seductive person. He supposes he is sensual in a different interpretation of the concept, in the way he is very _sensorial_ ; however, he is not sexual, erotic, he has sexual thoughts (that maybe involve Viktor), but he can’t place himself in a sexual situation for he doesn’t think anyone would care to see him like that.

_And still._

Viktor was there, watching so intently, like nothing else mattered, and Yuuri was watching him back like Viktor was the only one watching too, a lonely voyeur who pays women behind a glass to strip for him but never daring to touch. Viktor can touch him if so he wants, he can touch him whatever way he likes it. Yuuri, however, has yet to discover what’s the next move from now on-- the moment has shown itself and if he doesn’t hold to it, it will slip by his hands to never come back, like it happened before

(Somewhere in his adolescence, Yuuri figured out that what he felt for a hypothetical Viktor and what he felt for Yuuko were the same, but Viktor was never meant to be a possibility, he was a celebrity crush trapped in teenage magazine posters and lucid dreams, he wasn’t supposed to be flesh and blood and sweet perfume.)

A tentative, timid door knock. There’s just enough time between Yuuri standing up and Viktor entering the room.

“Yuuri?”, there’s something hesitant about Viktor’s tone, not fear but careful curiosity. _“Viktor wouldn’t fear”_ , he thinks.

“Hey”, always one for eloquence, he is.

“I’ve said this before, but well done. I knew you had it on you to really serve the performance, but I was still surprised by how captivating you were. I expect nothing else but other wonderful surprises, from now on.”

“Thank you so much for pulling it out of me. I don’t think I’ll ever be captivating as you are, though.”

“You see me as captivating?”, he smiles and there’s amusement in Viktor’s smile, and _something else_.

“Maybe captivating is not the right word… Mesmerizing, I think, suits you more.”

“Do I mesmerize you, Yuuri? When you see me, are you unable to look away?”

“O-Of course you do… You were my idol since I was a kid.” Yuuri, besides everything, averts his gaze to the carpeted floor, his recently-discovered sexual enchant still too green and insecure and still being burned by Viktor’s ice cold flame. “You’re the reason why I thought ice skating was ever a possibility for me, you were just a few years older but you had the world on your hands and a bright future and I used to think maybe I had a bright future ahead of me too. Yuuko and I recorded your presentations on VHS so we could watch it again, and again. When I decided to be an ice skater, I realized I didn’t need money or awards because all I wanted was… Your respect. To be seen as an equal, by you.”

“Oh”, Viktor answers, and Yuuri wants to believe the red dusting his sharp cheekbones is because of bashfulness and not the cold, “I don’t know if I see you as an _equal_ , however.”

“You don’t?”, he wants to control the tremble in his voice, but it’s too hard, he never thought this conversation would actually happen.

“No, I’m afraid. I see everyone in the rink as my equals, but _you_ , you are… Something else. Something more important than that.”

Viktor comes closer, closer, stops when only a hair strand separates them, and Yuuri is so nervous but he is not embarrassed like before when Viktor entered his personal space; he is filled to the brim with _anticipation_. His body feels electric, just waiting for the next touch to combust.

Viktor brings a hand to Yuuri’s face, touches his lips again like before, but this time, maybe, he won’t stop there. “We should celebrate your victory. Say, is there a place in the _onsen_ that is more private than your room?”

The hand doesn’t leave his face, but Viktor doesn’t try anything further, either. The logical side of Yuuri’s brain makes great effort to point that he’s not going to risk them getting caught by peeping strangers and it does takes a while to register it considering the rest of him became mush by now.

 “Yuuri?”

“Oh… Yes, there is, we have, huh, this room that is more expensive than the others.”

 “Then, let’s take this somewhere else.”

 

\-----

“Here, it’s for us.”

Viktor hands Yuuri a small pink bottle, ice cold from the mini-bar. The label spells _Salton_ , _sparkling wine rosé brut_. Alcohol in enough doses to boost his confidence but not enough to make him drunk; Yuuri supposes he appreciates Viktor’s consideration.

“Brazilian sparkling wine, Valentine’s Day edition. Not as expensive as a _Don Perri_ , but also owns the French nothing”, Viktor smiles while opening the bottles. “I’m afraid I don’t have a proper glass, though.”

“That’s okay… And, huh, thank you. When did you bought this?”, the fact it's _Valentine's Day_ edition doesn't go unoticed by him, but he chooses to not comment on that for a lack of intelligent words.

“I reserved it to celebrate with the winner.”

“You would let Yurio drink alcohol?”

“Well, not really, I would have drowned it in some harmless cocktail and have the rest myself. But, between us, Yurio wouldn’t have won anyway.”

“He wouldn’t?”

“No, he wouldn’t. Yurio is amazing and among the new generation of ice skaters, he is the one that holds great potential. But, he is also a 15 year old boy with a very difficult temper and a very stubborn head. He needs discipline and he needs to be driven by something else other than competition. Mostly, he needs an experienced coach, and that isn’t me.”

Viktor looks as if his slowly composed public persona is being shed away, to give place to a very exhausted and contemplative person that looks nothing like the public Viktor, at all. Yuuri wonders if he ever let anyone else see him like this, he hopes he doesn’t.

“I didn’t break my promise to him,” Viktor drinks from the tiny bottle while observing the darkness of their room, “I will teach him everything he needs to win competitions and such. I just won’t teach him _now_.”

The wine tastes bittersweet on Yuuri’s tongue, and he wonders if this is the Universe metaphor for their shared private moment. Still...

“I don’t understand why _me_ , of all people.”

Viktor gazes back at him, cups his face again and sits impossibly closer. Yuuri wonders if sometimes Viktor also needs liquid courage.

“You have the opposite problem of Yurio. Your technique is almost flawless, but you lack confidence in your skills and in yourself. That’s why I gave you the _Eros_ routine.”

“Because one can’t be seductive without confidence?”

 “Exactly. Tell me, where did you find your erotism, in the end? I know it wasn’t from _katsudon_.”

 “I realized that I couldn’t be the playboy even if I tried, so I decided to be the mysterious woman who seduces the playboy and leaves him heartbroken.”

 It sounds so silly when he says it out loud, but Viktor doesn’t laugh.

 “Am I supposed to be the playboy?”, Viktor asks, but there’s not much amusement in his voice.

 Yuuri remembers his lost opportunities and knows that the moment is building up and he can’t let it go to waste, he just can’t. It’s so hard to be the seductress when the playboy is right in front of you and so impossibly close, but he needs to try.

 Still, he gives nothing but a quiet murmur in the end, “Yes.”

 When Viktor finishes his wine, the bottle is put aside for him grab Yuuri’s wrist gently, his thumb tracing circles that leave shivers on his skin.

 “Why _me_?”, Viktor mirrors his own question, even though the answer should be so obvious.

 It could only ever be him, after all.

 “I had posters of you on my walls, all over my bedroom. I… I _kissed_ your pictures when I was thirteen.”

 “That’s cute.”

 Viktor takes Yuuri’s glasses off so carefully, almost in reverence. He traces Yuuri’s face with his fingertips, but none of them dare to move yet. Viktor is so _warm_ , his eyes are always so icy and he always acts with a distant friendliness so Yuuri is always expecting him to ooze coldness but he is warm like a fireplace.

“This is a dream, right?”, Yuuri asks because there’s no other explanation for what’s happening right now.

 "No, this isn’t a dream. But, Yuuri, you should allow yourself to dream more anyway.”

 And just like that, Viktor closes the distance between them and Yuuri melts away. And Viktor, he tastes like rosé wine and his body is like a furnace and his soft lips must contrast against Yuuri’s chapped, anxious ones, but he doesn’t care anymore because against all the odds he is finally kissing _Viktor Nikiforov_ , and it feels as if this is his first kiss.

Unsurprisingly, Viktor is a great kisser. Yuuri knows they will have to stop eventually because human beings need to breathe, but it’s so hard when Viktor pushes his tongue in and pretty much _devours_ him like a treat. Yuuri kissed maybe three people so far in his life and none of them kissed with the, dares him say, passion Viktor does. Perhaps he doesn’t see him as a mysterious seductress and more like a cake dripping chocolate on a plate, but honestly that’s fine by him. He was never one to take the initiative.

When they do break apart, Viktor quickly kisses his jaw, his neck, feeling him all over with his hands. Yuuri grabs his hair in a desperation to grab anything, and oh, his hair is so soft and silky as it looks. What really breaks him, though, is how gentle Viktor is, how his touches and kisses are soft, how his grip on him is so sure but still light enough that Yuuri could stop it if so he wanted (he doesn’t).

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while”, Viktor whispers in his ear, “you are so _cute_ and soft but I was afraid I would scare you.”

Viktor licks his earshell and Yuuri lets the most undignified moan escape his mouth, and it seems to only spur Viktor even further. He slips his hands past the layers of Yuuri’s clothes to feel his back, and _ah_ , his hands are so warm and his perfume smells like something sweet and floral and he knows he’s won’t resist this makeout session much longer. He’s either going to ruin it all or get him what he wants.

When Viktor undulates his hips and kisses him again, Yuuri assumes it’s the later.

When Viktor pins him down the couch they were sitting in, Yuuri knows Viktor has him wrapped on his pretty fingers to do as he pleases. And when they break apart again and Viktor looks down at him with dark and dangerous eyes, he knows he wouldn’t have this any other way.

“You look like you want to eat me alive,” Yuuri jokes but there’s no humour in his voice.

“I do, and I will, but I’d like to savour you first.”

“No one ever ‘savoured’ me before, or ate me.”

“Oh? Well, that’s unfortunate, you’re a delicious treat and people don’t know what they are missing. I’m afraid this will only make you sweeter to me, though.”

Viktor hands trail down his chest, his stomach, reach the hem of his pants, gives him a questioning look that Yuuri only answers with a nod, and when he dips his fingers in and touches him, it feels better than he could ever imagine. In the back of his head, a voice screams _“You’re losing your virginity to Viktor exactly like you always wanted to, this is not a dream”_ and he feels like giggling because it’s all so unbelievable but he doesn’t, he is too awestruck to do anything.

Yuuri grabs on the back of Viktor’s sweater because he needs to hold on something or he will metaphorically fall, and his eyes close almost instinctively because he can’t look, not yet, if he does the illusion will break and he just wants to revel in it. He registers his name being whispered like a prayer, a warm hand wrapping around him and something else thrusting against him too, he feels Viktor’s warm breath and quiet moans on the crook of his neck and his own hips seem to move at their own volition.

It’s too much, too overwhelming, it’s not enough, it’s never going to be enough.

“Yuuri, you’re so sweet… Look at how cute you are right now, I’m so lucky…”, his accent is so much thicker when his composure is lost, oh god, he made _Viktor_ lose his composure.

He nips at Yuuri’s neck and it will definitely leave a mark and Yuuri instinctively scratches at his back through the layers of fabric and he knows this is nothing in terms of what they could be doing but it already feels so good and he can’t stop. Viktor knows what he is doing to him, very much so.

It only takes Viktor murmuring “So perfect, look at you, you’re so perfect” at his neck for Yuuri to spill all over his hand. Viktor finishes a bit after, in the corner of his eye Yuuri can spot him cleaning his hand on the couch and he should be angry but he isn’t, he is too stunned in his, _their_ afterglow, to do anything.

Viktor pretty much collapses in top of him, grabbing his sweater and breathing deeply on his chest. He is too heavy but his weight feels just right. Yuuri watches him, he looks too vulnerable and vulnerability doesn’t suit Viktor at all but a weird pride bubbles deep in his heart from thinking he could bring vulnerability and neediness out of someone like Viktor.

“Don’t think I’m done with you”, Viktor mumbles to his chest, “tonight I just wanted a taste, but tomorrow or later I will take a bite.”

“Are we…” Yuuri takes a deep breath and he knows he is going to ruin the mood but he needs to make sure they are on the same page, “What are we, now?”

“Hmmm… This could be nothing if you wanted to, or this could be everything, or it could be… Something. I, personally, don’t want it to be nothing.”

“I… I don’t want it to be nothing either, but the idea of ‘everything’ is so scary…”

“Well, why don’t we try something and see if it becomes everything, then?”

“I’d… I’d like that.”

Viktor lying down on top of him, looking like a coy cat that got their milk is, after all, really hard to resist.

**Author's Note:**

> episode 3 destroyed me, bye


End file.
